


The Goddess of Light and Her Dark Consort

by alex_caligari



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alien Culture, Gen, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 08:24:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17556800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alex_caligari/pseuds/alex_caligari
Summary: Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it. –Confucius





	The Goddess of Light and Her Dark Consort

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted in 2010. The quote above is a prompt from the LJ community storm_and_wolf, and the lyrics are from "Les Fleur" by 4Hero.

_They stood watching a planet die. It wasn’t destroyed by the unnatural expansion of its sun or torn apart by war; it had the quiet of slow decay._

_They were side by side in the doorway, the light from the red giant turning her hair to molten gold and his jacket the colour of human blood. They said nothing, but eventually, she reached out and took his hand. They remained that way until the planet was nothing but rock and history._

&&&

“Can we go somewhere...”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“No, you were asking. What is it?”

“I was just wondering if we could go somewhere...pretty?”

“What about Woman Wept? That was pretty, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, of course it was, but I mean somewhere with people.”

“Like Paris?”

She laughed. “Least I wouldn’t have to worry about using the wrong verbs.”

“Or kissing strangers.”

There was a pause.

“But you weren’t thinking of Paris.”

“Not really. Once you’ve seen blue aliens, ordinary people become kind of, well, ordinary.”

“Bored with your planet already? For shame.”

“I want to see another sort of pretty. Earth has the Mona Lisa and the pyramids and Brad Pitt and whatever. What do other places have?”

The Doctor grinned. “Let’s find out.”

He twisted a knob, and Rose stepped out on to blue grass. The sky was a dusky pink and leafless trees twisted out of the ground. “Where are we?” she asked.

“In the middle of a park, in the city of Falgin, on the planet Manx.”

“People?” She walked towards one of the trees. It was no higher than eye level and was bright red.

“Of course there are people. Who do you think built the city?”

She didn’t take the bait. “You know what I mean. What are they like?”

He joined her beside the tree. “Technologically advanced by your standards, but returning to a more spiritual mindset. Sort of like your Romans; willing to accept science and religion.”

“So, not a bloodthirsty warrior race then?”

“Nope.”

“Shame. We’re about due for one.”

He looked at her and smiled, finally giving in to the teasing. “C’mon. Worlds to meet, people to greet, foods to eat.”

She smiled back and took his offered hand. “You’ve been waiting to say that all day, haven’t you?”

He didn’t answer, only raised his eyebrows. They walked together, and Rose saw that they were in a small hollow surrounded by low hills. The higher they climbed, the more buildings she could see around them. They were tall, rounded, and made of smooth stone, with dark figures moving in between them.

“The Manx,” the Doctor said. “Easy name to remember, even in plural. One Manx, many Manx. All the little Manx from the planet Manx.”

“You just like it because it sounds like a cat.”

He grinned. “Wait till you see them.”

They walked down the hill towards the city. It looked like they were on the outskirts of a suburb; small black creatures ran down the street chasing a glowing ball of light while a larger creature watched carefully. It glanced their way, but returned its attention to the others.

“Right then,” Rose said, “where are the cultural centres ‘round here? Museums, art galleries, temples, that sort of thing?”

“A bit impatient, aren’t we? Don’t you want to enjoy the sights?” He led her down a wide street anyway, towards the larger buildings.

“The longer we hang around, the more likely it is that the bloodthirsty warrior race will find us and decide we’ve offended their emperor or something.”

He tilted his head in consideration. “True.”

More black creatures—Manx, she guessed—appeared on the streets as they walked. Rose tried not to stare. They were roughly five feet in height, humanoid in shape, and canine in resemblance. It was a bit disconcerting to be stared at over a snout.

But once she accustomed herself to them, she found them quite intriguing. Long-legged and slender, they wore colourful tunics made of something silky yet thick, and went without shoes. They resembled hounds from back home, with long muzzles and soft ears. The Manx were much more expressive though, smiling and frowning as well as using their ears to show their mood. And they were, of course, tailless.

Several times Rose had to resist reaching out and petting one, telling herself that it would be incredibly rude and how would she feel if someone like the Doctor treated her as a pet? So, she watched carefully and listened to the Doctor telling her about the city.

“What are all these?” she asked, pointing to a shape drawn on to a wall. It was a crude stick figure in a circle with rays all around it. Rose had seen several while they were walking. “It looks like that Da Vinci drawing.”

The Doctor peered at it. “Don’t know. It could be any number of things; resistance movement, gang symbol, simple graffiti.”

“But nothing’s simple with us, is it?”

“It’s not likely.” He glanced around. “Excuse me,” he said to a passing Manx, “my friend and I only just arrived, and we were wondering—”

“Oh, are you here for the festival?” it interrupted. The translated accent sounded high class. “We always get a few foreigners like yourselves, although not quite so...” It leaned around the Doctor to look at Rose. “Interesting,” it finished.

“Why are we interesting?” Rose asked. She hadn’t missed the Doctor stiffening slightly.

The Manx didn’t answer, only continued to stare at Rose. “Very interesting,” it murmured.

“Where is this festival?” asked the Doctor, stepping in front of Rose.

The Manx blinked and focused back on the Doctor. “At the temple, of course. You can’t miss it.” It pointed to the left. “If you need any help finding your way...”

“We’ll be fine from here, thanks,” the Doctor smiled. He waved at the Manx and walked away with Rose’s hand in his.

There were several minutes of silence until Rose asked, “Why was it looking at me like that?”

“I don’t know. But we’re going to find out what this ‘festival’ is all about.” The Doctor’s voice had taken on a familiar if frightening edge. No more exploring; now they had a mission.

The temple was a simple affair compared to the ones on Earth. It was long and wide, hardly higher than the surrounding buildings, with a large dome in the middle. A larger stick figure was picked out in blue and gold stone on the street in front of it. The crowds increased as they got closer, and everywhere Manx were watching Rose. One wearing a short red tunic startled when it saw her and dropped to all fours to run towards the temple.

They finally managed to fight the crowds enough to approach an entrance, only to be stopped by a tall Manx in a green tunic. Its long ears had been docked so they were pointed like a Doberman’s and were adorned with small gold rings. The one in red stood behind it. Even standing below it on the stairs, the Doctor was at eye level. At least intimidation through height wasn’t going to work.

“I’m the Doctor, and this is Rose Tyler,” he said. “What can we do for you?”

The Manx in green smiled, revealing long white teeth. “Greetings, Doctor. I am the High Chancellor, power-balance to the Prime Minister. And to you, Rose Tyler,” it said, bowing to Rose, “I welcome you home. Follow me please.”

They glanced at each other. Rose shrugged; the Doctor raised an eyebrow. “Alright then,” he said. “Lead on.”

Rose kept close to the Doctor’s side, not yet scared but wary, as they moved through wide corridors into an anteroom.

“What is this festival that’s happening?” the Doctor asked conversationally.

“It is the Festival of the Golden Flower, the symbol of our most prominent goddess,” the High Chancellor replied. It gestured to a low sofa. “Please, sit. Your journey must have tired you.”

The Doctor sat easily, even though his knees were bent awkwardly high. “You have a name then, or just a title?”

The Manx smiled. “Of course I have a name, Doctor,” it said, laying emphasis on the last word. “I merely prefer to go by my title in public. I am Rodrix of the Hanover pack.” It bowed once more.

“Please,” said Rose, “why are you interested in us? I mean, we’re honoured, but I don’t see what makes us so special.”

“Rose Tyler, the timing of your arrival portends great tidings for us,” said the High Chancellor.

 Rose frowned. “Why’s that?”

“You are our Goddess of Light.”

Rose was aware that her mouth opened in shock, but couldn’t seem to do anything about it. The Doctor jumped up and said, “Could you please excuse us? Like you said, long journey, little sleep, you know how it is. Thanks.”

The sound of a door closing brought Rose back to reality. The High Chancellor had left them alone in the anteroom. “They think I’m what?”

“Apparently, you resemble their deity, and since we arrived during that deity’s festival, they’ve connected the two,” the Doctor said in much too calm a tone.

“I can’t be a god! This is ridiculous!”

“Sure, you can. It’s just like dressing up as a kid.”

“I can’t believe you’re not stopping this!”

“There’s no harm in going along with it. It’s just a party. It’s happened before.”

“But what if I say something wrong and the economy collapses or whatever?”

The Doctor walked up to her and smiled. “Don’t worry about it. You’ll do fine; I don’t think you’re the power-mad type anyway.”

Rose grasped at any excuse to show the Doctor why this wouldn’t work. “A black race worshipping a white girl? Doesn’t that sound a little weird to you?”

“They don’t have that sort of dichotomy, Rose. Black and white doesn’t matter to them. They think in terms of light and shadow, if anything. And they’re not really worshipping you; they don’t think you’re _actually_ the Goddess of Light. More of an embodiment, a symbol.”

Rose scowled. “They’re not going to adorn me with roses, are they? Because Mickey tried that once. He thought it was funny.”

The Doctor twitched, but he laughed and pulled her close. “Don’t worry,” he said again. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Serves me right for wanting to be blonde,” she mumbled into his jumper. “Stupid hair. Stupid name. Stupid alien goddess festival.”

“Don’t let them hear you say that,” the Doctor said. “It’s just for a little while. You make some people happy, wave a bit, then we can leave. No harm done. Now, how about we meet your adoring fans?”

Rose’s groan was interrupted by a knock at the door. It was the High Chancellor. “Pardon me,” it said— _he_ , Rose decided—“but we must prepare Rose Tyler for her reception. If you would be willing to part with the Flower for now, we can be underway.”

Rose looked at the Doctor. “Will you be alright?” he asked, his earlier flippancy gone.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself, remember?”

The Doctor nodded. “Alright then. I’ll see you later.”

“Not if I see you first,” she called back. She watched him as she walked away, and he gave a small wave as she left. She followed the Manx out of the anteroom through a different door and decided to hell with it, if she was going to have an adventure, she might as well enjoy it.

“This may be an impertinent question,” the High Chancellor said, “but what gender are you, if not undecided?”

Maybe not so fun. “What? I’m female. That’s what a goddess usually is, right?”

“The Goddess of Light may take whatever form she chooses. One of the legends depicts her as a Rafe with fiery hooves.”

“Right,” Rose said. “What’s this goddess like? She’s not smiting people or turning them into trees, is she?”

The Manx smiled, showing more teeth. “No. She is of light in all its forms, although light may be destructive. Isn’t that right, Rose Tyler?”

“Suppose,” she muttered as they entered another room. To Rose it looked like a spa of some sort, with pools of water and cushions everywhere. It was like a feminine idea of pampering heaven. Several Manx dressed in pastels were inside watching her.

“This is Rose Tyler, the Flower of the Goddess of Light,” the High Chancellor said to them. “Please prepare her for her reception.”

He began to leave when Rose stopped him. “When you say prepare, you mean like get dressed or something, not prepare as in marinate, right?”

The High Chancellor laughed, a rich deep sound unlike the barking Rose had expected. “What do you take us for, savages? A Flower is sacred; no one would dream of harming one.”

Rose laughed as well, rather nervously. “Good, just checking.” The High Chancellor left, and she turned to the waiting Manx. “Where do I start?” she said.

The attendants, she soon discovered, were both enthusiastic and efficient. In only an hour, she’d had the rather odd experience of being washed by a dog and was polished, powdered, dressed, and accessorized.

For a goddess, it was quite modest. The same thick silky material had been wound around her several times, yet expertly draped to give her freedom of movement. Thin gold bands wrapped around her arms, and more bands held her hair in an elegant pile. It was a very Roman style, smiling as she stood in front of a mirror.  She never told the Doctor, but she loved getting the chance to dress up on their adventures.

“It makes you shine even brighter than before,” a Manx that had introduced itself— _herself_ —as Pola said.

“Thanks to you,” Rose replied. She twirled to see the fabric shift around her. “What do you mean, ‘shine’?”

Pola glanced at the mirror. “Can’t you see it? You practically glow. It’s how the High Chancellor knew you were the Flower for sure.”

Rose frowned at her image. It looked the same. “I’m sorry, I can’t see it. Maybe it’s a Manx thing. The Doctor mentioned something about light and dark.”

“Is the Doctor the companion you arrived with?” Pola asked.

“Yeah, I suppose he is,” Rose laughed. She wondered how the Doctor would react to being called the companion.  She stopped laughing when she noticed how uncomfortable Pola looked. Her eyes were narrowed and her ears flat against her skull. “What is it?”

“The High Chancellor...he thinks that perhaps your companion is too dark for you.”

“What?” Rose frowned. Dark hair? Dark coat? Then she realized. “You mean instead of being all glowy?”

Pola nodded slightly. “The High Chancellor worried that your companion might overshadow you.”

“Well, I’ve dealt with that before,” Rose muttered. “You don’t need to worry about that. I can look after myself.”

“Of course,” Pola said quickly. “The Goddess may consort with whomever she chooses.” Her ears twitched, and she took on a listening attitude, although Rose didn’t notice anything. “The people are ready to receive their Flower. Are you prepared to meet them?”

“As much as I’ll ever be,” Rose said. “Lead on.”

&&&

They walked through corridors she hadn’t seen before, taking several turns until Rose was completely lost. A familiar uneasiness stirred in her at not knowing where the exit was, but she again tramped it down.

The longer they walked, the more Rose was aware of a noise. It sounded like the ocean at first, raising and falling in regular intervals, but as it became clearer, she realized it was people singing.

_For all of these simple things and much more, a flower was born_

_It blooms to spread love and joy, faith and hope to people forlorn_

“What is that?” she asked.

“It is a song giving thanks for the Flower. It is sung only at festivals like this,” Pola answered.

Rose listened to the rise and fall of the voices, noting how there wasn’t a single one that was off-key. The Manx were natural singers. Even without the TARDIS translation, it would have been beautiful.

They came suddenly to a balcony, and Rose stood blinking in the sunlight. She wasn’t that much higher above the waiting Manx, but high enough so she could see the crowd stretching out across the square and through the streets. It left her a little awed.

The voices broke from the song momentarily to cheer and fell back into it even louder than before.

_Ring all the bells, sing and tell the people everywhere that the flower has come_

_Light up the sky with your prayers of gladness and rejoice for the darkness is gone_

_Throw off your fears, let your heart beat freely at the sign that a new time is born_

Rose realized that the Manx attending her had fallen back and left her alone on the balcony. She was overwhelmed with stage fright; she felt giddy and light-headed and wished the Doctor was there. Scanning the crowd, she saw the High Chancellor off to the side making a speech, but no Doctor. She wished he was beside her, or at least that he could see her like this.

A sudden tugging at her robe brought her attention to a small Manx at her feet, just a pup. “Hello,” she said uncertainly. Was there some ritual she hadn’t been told about?

The Manx squeaked and shyly held up a cream-coloured lily that smelled like coconut. It ran off as soon as she took it. Not sure what to do with it, she tucked it into the folds of her robes at her side.  When Rose looked up, she could see the High Chancellor smile approvingly and continue speaking. She was scanning the crowd again when Pola appeared at her elbow. “If the Flower would like to follow me, I will show you to your quarters.”

“Oh, are we done already?” Rose said, secretly thankful to be away from the noise and sunlight. Pola only smiled.

Her quarters were spacious, simple, and comfortable. Everything was in light, pale colours with splashes of gold or bronze, but all Rose noticed was the Doctor standing in a corner looking at a wall hanging. Strange how much she missed him after only few hours apart.

“You missed the party,” she said with a grin.

He turned to her with an expression of offended pride. “Not so. I was watching from the wings, so to speak. You did well. Considering.”

Strange also how easily she could still get annoyed with him. “Considering what?”

“That you’re not telepathic.”

“What?”

“The Manx. They’re slightly telepathic, almost empathic. It’s how they keep their packs together. They use it to communicate over distances and tell each other how they’re doing.”

Rose remembered how Pola had acted in the bathing room and her own confusion outside. “They tried to get in my head?” she said, slightly more panicked than she intended. She had only recently stopped thinking about the TARDIS being in her head; she wasn’t sure about a whole new species.

“No, no, I mean, not deliberately. There were some powerful connections out there. I’m surprised you didn’t black out.” He looked at her oddly, like she was a turtle that had suddenly sprouted wings and he couldn’t wait to see what she’d do next.

“Humans have latent telepathy,” he continued. “It’s residual, you don’t really need it, but it’s there just in case. Sometimes it kicks in. You’ve seen it happen; a large number of people gather in one place and experience a strong emotion. That’s what leads to mobs. It’s what happened outside. All that positive emotion aimed right at you.”

“Wow,” she said. He beamed.

“And while you were getting primped and primed,” he looked her over, making Rose shift, “I was exploring. Talking to people. And you know what I found out?”

“What?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing sinister is happening here. No political coup, no military overthrow, nothing. They keep to themselves mostly, and the worst they could do is sell you commemorative merchandise.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Rose said, then laughed at herself. “Listen to me, trying to find a problem in a peaceful holiday. I’ve been with you too long.”

“I know, but that’s the truth. About it being ridiculous,” he quickly corrected.  His eyes belied his excitement.

“So, now what? We sit and wait?”

“Oh, Rose, you sound so disappointed. I would have thought you would appreciate not having to run for your life this one time.”

Rose looked down at her bare feet. The Manx didn’t have any sort of footwear that could be adapted for her on such short notice. “Don’t know how far I’d get like this.”

“You humans are always trying to improve shoes, when your feet are better designed than anything out there. That’s why people used to wear moccasins; protect your feet, but don’t alter how they move structurally. There’s actually a village of barefoot runners—”

Before he could work up a good lecture, a knock at the door interrupted him. It was a new Manx, in robes of dark blue. It bowed to Rose (something she was getting annoyed at) and asked, “Is the Flower sufficiently refreshed?”

“I suppose so, why?” Rose asked.

“The procession is ready for you, if you would like to share the light.”

She glanced at the Doctor, who was oddly silent, before she asked, “Can the Doctor come, too, this time?”

The Manx blinked at the Doctor, considering it. “If it is what the Flower wishes,” it conceded.

“Alright then. We’re ready.”

The Manx led them out through the maze of corridors. It said nothing when Rose took the Doctor’s hand and kept its face blank.

Rose paused as she entered the massive hall. It was right under the translucent dome, and it glittered with light. Almost as many Manx were gathered as in the square outside and cheered as they saw her. If it hadn’t been for the Doctor’s solid presence behind her, she might have turned right around and left. To have all this attention focused on her was too much, and now that she knew about the telepathy, she feared being overwhelmed by it. But the Doctor quietly murmured in her ear, “It’s alright, you can do it,” and she felt her spine straighten. Yes, she could do it, she told herself, because she was Rose Tyler, companion to the Doctor, and he didn’t take cowards. She stepped forward and followed the blue-robed Manx.

It led her up a dais to a throne, not golden as she expected, but carved from pale wood. She sat in it, still feeling awkward, while the Doctor stood behind her. “Don’t you get a chair?” she asked him quietly.

“Don’t worry about me. This is your party.”

“And I’ll cry if I want to,” she muttered. The Doctor sniggered.

The procession began. It was like parade, with each major pack and business walking past the dais to acknowledge the Flower. Rose soon learned that it didn’t matter if she paid attention or not; as the procession dragged on, her mind wandered. She noticed each group as they passed hesitated slightly when they saw the Doctor. He remained standing stiff as a board, without even shifting his weight. She wondered how he did it and why the Manx were so preoccupied with him.

She stopped caring as the domed hall became hot and stuffy. The procession seemed endless. She was soon uncomfortable and restless, and one of the bands was digging into her arm. The Doctor noticed her fiddling with it. “Stop scratching,” he said.

“It itches.”

“I know.”

“Then don’t tell me to stop.”

“You’re going to break the skin. It’ll only feel worse.”

“Thanks. Glad I have you around to tell me things like that.”

“Don’t.”

“Can’t make me.”

The Doctor wisely decided not to respond. She knew it was childish, but didn’t care. Her head was pounding and all she wanted was a bath. She could have sworn that the line was repeating itself, because there was no way the hall could hold this many people. Suddenly, a pale-robed attendant appeared at her side with a bronze goblet of water. She thanked it and drank greedily, letting the cool liquid soothe her discomfort somewhat. Rose turned to offer the Doctor some, but found him gone. He had moved off the dais and was talking to the Manx at the side. He saw her watching and returned.

“We can’t leave before the procession’s over, but they’ll bring you whatever you need,” he said.

“You sent the water over?”

“You were about to faint. I couldn’t just stand here and watch.”

Rose smiled. “Thanks. And I’m sorry about earlier. This is a bit much to take in.”

He huffed. “You have to put up with enough from me; surely I can cut you some slack.”

The light through the dome was getting darker, signalling the approach of evening. With the last pack to go by (a relatively small family including an elder and six pups), the torches inside were lit and the crowd dispersed. Rose stood up to stretch her cramped muscles and noticed the High Chancellor walking over.

“How is the Flower doing?” he asked.

“A bit wilted,” Rose replied, “but nothing I can’t handle.”

He bowed. “Refreshments will be provided shortly.”

“Thanks,” Rose muttered as he walked away. She moved towards the Doctor and leaned against him. The water earlier had helped, but her mouth still tasted metallic and her stomach was painfully empty. Some of her mental fatigue was lessened by his presence; he was solid and reliable in the face of expectation and uncertainty.

“Doctor,” she said, “something’s been bothering me.”

“What?”

“The Manx, they don’t really talk to you, do they? I mean, they kind of ignore you.” It was so out of place, she was surprised she didn’t notice before.

The Doctor shifted. “They have their Goddess to focus on, what would they want with me?”

“That’s not it. It’s like they’re trying to shut you out.” Rose paused. “Where were you during the reception?”

“Like I said, in the wings.”

Rose turned to face him. “Doctor, quit dodging. I can tell when you’re hiding something.”

The Doctor glanced around and sighed. “Rose, it’s nothing. It’s just how the Manx see things, it’s different to what—”

He was interrupted by several dozen Manx in stately robes entering and gathering around a table Rose hadn’t noticed being set up. It was laden with food and liquid, but right now Rose was too concerned about the Doctor.

“You tell me what’s going on right now or—”

“My dear Flower,” an unfamiliar Manx said at her elbow, “may I offer my gratitude towards you for choosing to grace us with your presence this day?”

“Oh, yeah, no problem,” she replied, a little flustered. More and more Manx soon joined, delighted for the chance to speak personally to her. She reached out for the Doctor’s hand and found him missing. He was on the outside of the circle forming around her; they had been slowly arranging themselves to separate her from the Doctor. It wasn’t until they were prodded in opposite directions did she notice that it wasn’t by accident. “What are you doing?”

The High Chancellor sniffed indigently. “This one is too full of shadows. He doesn’t need the light.”

“Don’t you touch him!” she cried. Everyone stopped. She was annoyed and upset, and this was the final straw. “Don’t you dare touch him again.” The Manx beside the Doctor stepped away slightly. There was no fear on their faces, just respectful obedience.

No one spoke, not even the Doctor. He was watching her with a closed expression. Rose felt like she was standing on a precipice and that one false step could send her tumbling down. This was a moment of importance. She felt terror build in her spine at such responsibility being laid at her feet, but she threw all her faith into the alien translation and her instincts and hoped for the best.

“You see him as full of shadows, and me full of light, or however it is. But that’s just because you don’t know what you’re looking at. It’s...it’s like a forest, see?  If you just wander in there, you’ll get lost. You’ll think you see monsters everywhere. But if you know what you’re looking for, you can fight the monsters.” She looked around, making sure to meet their eyes. Some were nodding slightly. She knew that if she looked at the Doctor, she’d falter, so she avoided his gaze.

“That’s the same with us. If you saw me at another point in my life, times when I was selfish and didn’t think about the consequences, you might see more shadows. I’ve seen other sides of the Doctor, and yes, there are shadows. But there is so much light. If you believe I’m who you say I am, then listen to me. That man who you seem so eager to condemn to darkness helped create me. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him, so don’t ever think he’s not worthy of light.”

The Manx glanced at each other. The High Chancellor even had a wisp of a smile. “The Goddess of Light may have her Dark Consort. Even cosmic powers need balance.”

Rose breathed deep. “Thank you. May I be left alone for a bit?”

The Manx bowed and left, leaving only the Doctor and herself in the immense room. The adrenaline left her shaking and weak, and the Doctor still hadn’t moved.

She desperately wanted to sit down. Her skin was hot and prickly, and she felt nauseated. Her eyes closed, but before her knees could collapse, hands caught her waist and lowered her to the floor. She leaned against worn leather and breathed in the double heartbeat. She wanted to say something; reassure him she was fine, or ask him if she did the right thing.

“You got a heavy dose of their telepathy, not something humans are used to. You might be a bit wobbly for a while,” he said, answering at least one of her unspoken questions. Her only response was to sigh heavily and burrow farther into his coat. “That was some show you gave them,” he said finally.  “Tapped into their emotional centres without even realizing it. Takes a delicate touch to do that and not rip it to shreds.”

Rose forced herself to speak. “Will they leave you alone now?” She felt breath on her skin and realized the Doctor had bent his head over her. She could hear his smile in his voice.

“They wouldn’t dare cross their Goddess.”

“I don’t want to be a goddess anymore. It scares me.”

“I know.”

“Why me?” she asked quietly.

“You were full of light. They simply saw you as you are.”

“But you could have stopped it.”

“They saw in you what I saw all along. Why would I say otherwise?”

“Why didn’t they see what I see in you?”

The Doctor said nothing.

She clutched at his coat. “Take me home.”

“Alright.” He helped her to her feet, and as they left the domed hall, they heard snatches of singing.

_Inside every man lives the seed of a flower,_

_If he looks within, he finds beauty and power._

They walked hand in hand back to the TARDIS.

&&&

_The planet began to crack before them._

_“Over millions of years, some of the dust here collects together with a larger cloud and forms the star Polaris, which humans used for millennia to help them navigate the world. The end of one civilization allows the start of another.”_

_“Thank you for bringing me to see this.”_

_“Everyone should remember their beginnings.”_

_“Is it wrong that it looks so beautiful?”_

_“Everything can be beautiful. You just have to look at it right.”_


End file.
